One of my duties at the House of the Seasons is to lead our guests on a tour of the house. In every room we visit, I weave in and out through the crowd of feet, maybe running against a leg or two, before showing off the best perch in the room.

One of my other duties is to oversee breakfast. I stand guard and make sure everyone is enjoying their meal. Should anything fall to the floor, well, I make sure it’s cleaned up post haste.

I take both of these duties seriously and I love interacting with our guests. I’ll happily accept a scratch behind the ears or a pet along my back as acknowledgement for a job well done, but please, leave my feet on the floor. I’m too mature and dignified to be picked up like a spring kitten. A lady has her limits, afterall.

I like to consider myself a pretty easy-going feline. I know what I like and when I like it, and I expect humans to respect and adhere to my wishes. Simple, right? So imagine my surprise when, one day last week, three of my least favorite events coincided!

Firstly, I do not like the sound of the lawn mower. Put yourself in my shoes, or rather in my ears. What is loud to a human is a cacophony of abrasive noise to me. The grinding of the mower going up and down the lawn is not something I enjoy. When it’s grumbling over the landscape, I stay inside.

Secondly, I have a strong dislike of the bug man. He comes every so often under the pretense of keeping unwanted pests off the property, but I’m onto him. That khaki jumpsuit screams “cat catcher” and that little sprayer is clearly a torture device. When he comes into the house, I keep my distance by laying low in the yard.

So, imagine my horror when the lawn mowers and the bug man arrived on the same day. I couldn’t hide inside away from the mowers or outside away from the bug man! Trapped as I was, I did what any clever cat would do: I climbed up to hide in the chimney!

I was pretty proud of myself and thought I’d shown great resourcefulness in evading the mower and the bug man. When I finally came down from the chimney, however, I didn’t get the praise I expected. Instead, I had to endure the third of my least favorite things: a BATH!

I’m still in a forgiveness period with Mom. A few more back scratches and all will be forgiven.

A year or so ago, a mysterious structure appeared on the property at The House of the Seasons. It’s a glass house, but it isn’t filled with regular house things like couches and bed. It’s filled with outside things like plants and flowers. I can’t figure it out! Why would you build a see-through house and then fill it with nature? I don’t trust it.

Mom, on the other hand, spends tons of time in the outside/inside glass house. She frequently moves things from the glass house into the regular house. Yes, you heard me right: she built a house to grow things in so she can put them in another house later. I don’t get it at all, but our guests seem to admire all the fresh plants and flowers.

When I arrived at The House of the Seasons 11 years ago the property looked very different. Of course, I was a different cat back then too. In my younger days, it was my job to patrol the grounds and keep unwelcome guests – you know, like lizards and bugs – away from the house.

Now, with the garden finished, the landscape around the house is much less feral and so, as it turns out, am I. Now in my more seasoned years, my responsibilities have changed. Instead of pouncing around the yard, it’s now my job to purr and preen for guests and to lay in sun spots where I can be adored. It’s a hard job, but I’m up to the task.